wave and storm
by Kelly Jacobs
Summary: wave and storm- a request.


wave the swallow and storm the albatros

they didn't have actual jobs, they stole for a living. but most people didn't know that she had a small computer building and repair shop. the technical minded young lady had led a rocky path in her time. at only 18, she had be shot at, had explosives throw at her, and all hell broke loose when she got into a tech battle with miles perhour, better known as tails. she made a tidy living building cheap super comupters, but she wasn't happy. only two things in this world brought a smile to her face, danger and his eyes. jet was like a brother to her. every so often she wanted to pound his face in, but he had a hidden use to her. his best friend, and de-facto righthand man was something special to her. he was intensly loyal to jet, a bit clumsy, but sweet underneath the hard shell he kept himself in. she wanted to break that shell, and see the sweet birdy deep down. storm and wave didn't speak together very often, but they an underlying spark between them, or at least thats what wave wanted there to be. it was mosty jet how binded them, and she was jealous of the bond they shared, the bond she wanted to be a part of. she tried to get him to like her, and part of her knew he liked her as a friend, but she wanted more than that. he couldn't flirt to save his life, and every time he spoke with a pretty girl, he stuttered and looked away. it was the inner softness that she liked so much in him, and it was that same softness that she was going to get.

the team hadn't pulled off a job in months, instead taking their sweet time with liesure, like swimming, learning guitar, watching tv, and, of course, playing video games. not many people knew it, but wave liked to cook. possibly the only person under the age of 65 who could measure spices by the sprig, and knew extactly how made biscuits was in a mess, and even knew how many pinches of salt were in a dash. she was good. jet liked hamburgers, he was easy to cook for, even though he did his own cooking. wave was a bit rude at times, cursed like a sailor half the time, and could drink anyone under the table, but she had in her the natural instinct to give her guy the best food she could, even if it was only on an occassional basis. she would just leave the food in the fridge, and mention to storm that it was there. in 4 minutes, it was totally gone. he didn't make a fuss about it though, but she did, in her mind at least. when she cooked for jet, he ate half and tossed the other half out. when she cooked for storm, nothing was left, like a dietary holocaust. if you laughed at that joke, you have bigger problems than i do.

storm being the tough guy he is, didn't speak much, so he made no response when wave entered the room. she had just had a swim in the lake, and was sopping wet, her hair hung low in loose, soaking waves against her short violet feathers. her white bikini clung to her moist body, making her skin shine like a goddess carved of deep ruby. storm tried his best to be a gentleman and not stare, regardless of how much he wanted to. he looked over his shoulder for only a second, and beheld her scultped form, their eyes met for a second. he tried to cover up the fact he was staring at her, and with a wide eyed epression, raised his glass, never looking away, and said, "wanna beer?'' "sure" she chirped. (tee-hee goes the author) she took the beach towel from underneath her slim arm, and held two corners, letting the remainder drop to the floor. storm felt a little cheated from his free show, but still was unable to shift his vision as she dried off in front of him, or rather behind him, as he watched. she quickly rubbed the towel over her hair, leaving it a shuffled, half done mess. storms jaw dropped as he saw her passed it over her inner thighs, with no regard to the appearance... she was in a bathing suit after all.

the couch shook as she hopped next to storm, by now, he was in a state of full nervousis. tucking her long, shaply legs to her thighs, and leaning against the back in a slanted fashion. she supported herself with one arm as she leaned over storm to get a beer from the cooler. storm normally had a few beers during his favorite show, the view, and as he pondered when whoopi goldberg was going to murder that yippy bitch hasselbeck, waves insistent but gentle hand graised his leg. all time seemed to be lost, if only until a crisp hiss awakened him. it was wave opening the bottle. she liked banana daquri's but it was still an oppurtunity to get close to the man she wanted. she didn't know what to do. should she talk, be silent, laugh, cry, or kiss him. it came to her all of a sudden, as she said sheepishly, "remember when jet kicked sonic in the nads? the look on spike heads face..." he laughed, it was only a modest chuckle, but she actually made him laugh. "did you ever get that necklace- ruby- thing fixed?", he asked, not wanting the conversation to die. "i can't get the right part until next week", wave said with disappiontment. storm tried to carry on talking with her, and being friendly underneath the tough-guy exterior, he made her feel welcome around him. storm, and wave, unbeknownsed to each other were purposly drinking as fast as they could, looking for a reason to leave, and return with an idea, or something, anything to help. after the last bottle hit the previous in the trash can, storm began to rise from his seat and groaned, "i'll get some more drinks". " I'LL COME WITH YOU", wave chirped. storm froze mid-rise at the double meaning.

the equivalent of a basement and wine cellar was a semi-underground shed with some bottles of grocery store wine, and 6 packs. the makeshift door made out of a single sheet of plywood opened on it's mismatched hindges. as the two made their way down the steps made of stacked cinder blocks, wave peered over storm's shoulder, to see what was around his hulking frame. her violet eyes spotted what she craved, a bottle of mount gay XO dark rum, the good stuff. she almost lept over storm to get it, and after claiming her prize, saw an acoustic guitar on a shelf of pine planks. "who's guitar is that?'', she asked, not knowing of the outcome. "mine", storm said plainly as he bent over to pick up two 6 packs of knothole brown ale off of the cool straw covered floor. "wait... you can play guitar?" she said in amazement. "yeah", he resonded, only after his words did he realize that he was on the verge of a conversation starter. "want me to teach you?" he asked quickly. "sure", wave said, "i always wanted to play guitar". she strummed the bottle of precious rum, "i'm gonna be the female curt cobain... but without the suicide thing.'' "or the purple chuck berry", storm added, giving some musical insight that the author knows the readers won't understand, but he does this anyway, hoping to will google "Chuck Berry". he knows you won't, regardless of the fact that he invented rock and roll, and has been the single most influential person in american music, ever, EVER. but i digress. aww.. to hell with it, my story, my rant. stop reading the damn celebrity websites, turn off the fucking x-cube, or whatever the hell you kids play nowadays, and go look up chuck berry. now. do it. go. seriously. NOW ! and onto the next phase of the operation... you people make me sick.

Jet was out testing a new hover board, so wave and storm had time to be alone together. she wanted to play it cool, and not just rush into a relationship with him, like a common whore. she wanted to be his forever, not his whenever. they sat on the floor of the living room, to the side of the coffe table. wave held the guitar, which was an akward fit, considering that it was as tall as she was. "put your middle and index fingers on the 5th and 6th strings, and strum, skipping the 1st," storm said calmly. wave gave him a look only a lost kitten could give. it was obvious she had no idea what he was saying, so he went behind her, oblivious to the fact he was so near to her, and held her hands. he positioned her fingers on the strings, and said "press down, and hit". she did so, and a feeling of nerous joy took her, she had just learned the a- chord. "every song is composed of notes", he explained, "if you learn the chords, the songs will come. it takes a while, but after you learn the basic 24 chords, most songs are within your range". his warm breath flew down the back of her neck, his soft, deep voice rang in her ears like church bells. her heart raced immediatly when he kneeled behind her. her mind was frozen with thoughts as he held her wrist and guided her hand to hit the strings. the pick hung on the last sting. storm was suprised that she stopped mid-strum, and asked with concern, "wave, you ok?" she couldn't take it anymore, and let the guitar drop.

she made no quams and spun in her position, her face met his, as she wrapped her arms around his thich neck. the guitar hit the floor with a ringing thud. he was stunned by the momentum of her small body as she weighed herself against his chest, and impossed her lips on his. her eyes were closed, but his were open. the thin barrier of logic shattered as he felt her hot, wet breath escape onto his cheek. he quickly grassed his hands across her rib cage, positioning them in the middle of her upper back, and on her opposite hip. he was amazed that his hand covered the entire span of her shoulders. the notion that he could hurt her delicate frame crossed his mind for a second, but the realization stuck in his mind that this is what she wanted, what she needed, what they both had craved for so long, even if they refused to admit it. storm let wave have the control she wanted, and leaned back on the floor. he carried her with him as he lied on the ground. she began to shudder with embaressment, and lifted her self, looking into his eyes with disbelief. neither wanted this moment to end, he dove foward, and began kissing her neck, masking his burning desire, and powerful lust with gentle taps, occassionally scraping her shoulder with his teeth. wave's back arched with pleasure as she let release a wimper. normally she held her own, and was strong, but she let him dominate her body, allowing pleasure to cascade over her mind, her entire being quivered with electric passion. (electric passion... sounds like a cocktail)

his strong hands shook with antisipation, exploring every curve and turn of her tender body. he let her know how delicate really was, as he placed both hands under each knee, lifting her with no effort, and giving a quick slide across the floor, pulled her thighs away from each other, and brought her knee upward toward him, letting her sit over his throbbing manhood. she ran her hands down his hard, thick chest. realizing the shear difference in size, she pondered if she could accomidate his entire girth inside of herself. she couldn't wait, her hands dove downward, his shoulders jumped with exitment and suprise, and she gripped him. she froze in motion and a tear welled in her eye, and she wondered if this could really be happening. her slim form couldn't possibly encompass what she could barely wrap both hands around. he placed both hands on her trembling shoulders, and with a look og glistening care and love in his eyes, asked her, "what's wrong?" she looked up at him, their eyes meeting, and managed to release the words, "i- i can't. i- it's too big." "it's ok", he said. his voice was like smoked velvet on her ears, he said it with understanding, and with not a touch of dissapointment. "come here", he whispered. his hands lied under her legs, fingered resting on her rear, wrists on her belly, as he pulled her over him.

a gentle breeze passed into her, as his fingers gentle opened her shealth, and a warm, hot gust passed over her labia. he kissed, and gingerly licked her inner thighs, slowly moving to her womanhood, kissing it a few times, but always passing over, just to tease her. her spine twisted with pleasure, and her check heaved with wimpers, grunts, and panting. storm slid his index finger down from the mound of her buttock, down the groove, and slowly circling her entirety. with patience, and intended wastes of precious time, he jammed a finger into her body. she sqeeled with joy, and her thighs clamped over his head. he slowly pushed inward, and drew outward, being irregular with motions, giving more, taking less, teasing her to orgasm. storm motioned his thumb over wave's clitoris, making small circles, and up and down passes. he tried to delicate with her, even if his thumb was as wide as her arm. it happened all of a sudden, she dropped on his face. her soft belly covering his eyes, and she hrunts in animalistic pleasure, twisting on his body. he nectar flowed down his cheeks, she tasted sweet, like warm peach wine. her body was spent.

he pulled her over him, downward. sliding and ejoying every curve over him. but he couldn't enjoy her again, she needed him in a different way now. her head rested on his thick chest, she felt vulnerable, open to the world. as he wrapped his arms around her, and held her tightly, all of the bad in the world seemed to melt away. she was safe, nothing could hurt her as long as she was with him, wrapped up in her big teddy bear. and even if he didn't orgasm with her, that wasn't the point, he wanted to please her, in every way. they held each other for any length of time. it didn't matter who long, it all wouldn't be enough anyway. jet came home a few hours later, theyy were both on the couch, she was leaning on his shoulder, sipping a strawberry daquiri. he was drinking occassionally on his beer. jet couldn't put his finger on it, but something was different. and it unison they slowly began to sing;

united states, canada

mexico, panama,

haiti, jamaica, peru

republic dominiacn, cuba, carribean,

greenland, el salvador too...

apparently both of them knew the entire nation's of the world song , by yakko warner. they kept their relationship out of the eyes of friends. it was theirs, and they were each others. qoute the albatros- forever more. (poe joke).


End file.
